'This was more than a scratch. I've been treating it for ten days nowand it's only just starting to heal.' Maddy dusted antiseptic powder over the ulcerated shin, then reached for a dressing. Sometimes old people's wounds took a long time to heal, especially when there was little flesh between skin and bone. And Malcolm Bryce was an eighty-five-year-old widower. But he was alert, sprightly and had made more new friends than anyone else on the ship.

'So you won't marry me? I'm going to be terribly disappointed.' She loved the mischievous sparkle in his eyes when he teased her.

'I'd certainly marry you if I wanted to marry anyone. But I don't. For me marriage is out. O-U-T.'

There was a keenness in his faded eyes. 'You seem very certain of that.'

'I am.' Her reply was gentle, but firm.

'Ah, well. Rebuffed again. But I will be strong. So what should I do with the Bryce millions?'

'Spend them. Come for another cruise to the Indian Ocean on the good ship Emerald.'

'Well, I have enjoyed it. Didn't you say it was your first trip as a cruise-ship nurse? Have you enjoyed it?'

Maddy smiled. 'It's a lot more luxurious than the hospital A and E department I came from. Yes, I have enjoyed it, I've made a lot of new friends. Now, for the past few days you've come to the medical centre for treatment. But today you phoned and asked me to come to your cabin. Any special reason why?'

In fact, she had noticed that he didn't look his usual healthy self. He was still lying in his bed, unknown for him at this time of day. He was pale, there were beads of sweat on his forehead. Although he tried to keep up their normal cheerful chatter, his voice was noticeably weaker.

'I feel a bit feeble,' he said. 'When I woke up this morning my left arm was numb and tingly. Then I went back to sleep again and I never do that.'

'Did you have palpitations? Could you feel your heart beating harder than usual?'

Mr Bryce considered. 'Sort of,' he said. 'It seemed queerirregular. But I still went back to sleep.'

Maddy tried not to show the concern she was feeling.

'You're probably a bit excited at the prospect of getting back home,' she said. 'It affects some people that way. Still, I'll check your blood pressure and listen to your heart.'

His BP was too high and his heartbeat seemed unsteady. Well, he was a man of eighty-five but 'I think you'd better stay in bed today,' she said. 'In fact, you might as well stay in bed till we dock. Then I'll get a doctor to come and look at you. I'll get a steward to fetch you your mealsnothing heavy and no alcohol. And I think I'll prescribe aspirin as well.'

'What do you know about transient ischaemic attacks?' Maddy was shocked at the way he guessed what she was thinking.

'A temporary reduction of blood and oxygen to the brain, probably caused by a minor blood clot. My wife had several of them before she died and I got to recognise the symptoms. But mostly, Maddy, I'm upset because you won't marry me.' The smile was still there but the voice was getting weaker.

'Perhaps I'll think about it,' she said gently. 'Now, rest. The steward will come to see to you and I'll drop in again later.'

'Looking forward to that,' said Mr Bryce.

Maddy's next call was two decks further up. Another phone call asking for a cabin visit. It was unusual as most people much preferred to come to the medical centre. Maddy's suspicions were growing. She knocked, and a weak voice asked her to come in.

Entering the cabin, the smell was unmistakable, and a glance at the white-faced patient confirmed that Mrs Adams was feeling very unwell indeed. Maddy's heart sank as she realised what she could be dealing with. This wasn't the first stomach upset she'd treated in the last twenty-four hours. 'How are you feeling, Mrs Adams?'

'Nurse, I feel like I'm dying. I've been sick and I.. J don't think I can get out of bed.'

'Well, let's take your temperature for a start. And we'll check your pulse and BP. When did you start to

feel ill?'

'It happened so suddenly! I didn't much feel like my meal last night. I thought I'd be better in the morning, but in the middle of the night I ' And Mrs Adams was sick again.

Reassuring the poor woman, who kept apologising weakly, Maddy cleaned her up and made her as comfortable as possible. 'There you go, Mrs Adams, and you're to stay in bed all day. Whatever you do, don't leave your cabin. Don't try to eat anything, but if you can, drink plenty. I've got some special stuff here. No tap water and especially nothing sweet. And take these pills now. I'll put a couple of bottles near you. And I'll be in to see you later.'

'We'll do what we can to get you better. Now, just rest.' Maddy wondered if she looked as confident as she sounded.

She walked back to the medical centre, washed her hands again, made herself a coffee and sat down to think. Late last night it had been just a vague suspicion, but now it was turning into a certainty. This was going to be trouble. And it could be big trouble.

There had been plenty to occupy her during the cruise. Many of the passengers were quite elderly and had the usual ailments that come with age. But mostly it had been small stuff. The medical staff had coped easily.

And until yesterday morning she had been just one member of a medical teamthe least important member. There had been a doctor on board, and another nurse. But a launch had met them as they'd approached the British coast, taking off the doctor and the other nurse. There had been an illness, and the doctor and nurse were needed urgently on a cruise ship about to depart. And since the Emerald was practically in British coastal waters, due to dock in two days, it had been decided that one nurse would be sufficient.

She now thought that was doubtful.

Last night there had been two complaints about upset stomachs. This morning she had treated another personand it looked like there would be more. In an enclosed environment like a cruise ship, illness could spread like wildfire.

She winced. She thought that these were cases of acute gastroenteritis, sometimes known as cruise ship fever.

It was important that the captain be informed at oncehe had to make the big decisions. But to a certain extent he'd have to rely on her medical advice. She knew he'd be fairbut he wouldn't be happy.

Especially when she told him that the port authorities might not let them dock.

She picked up her phone and told Ken Jackson, the captain's steward, that she needed to see the captain urgently.

She sat down to wait, to get her thoughts in order. Captain Smith would want precision. She'd give it to him.

In fact, she only had to wait five minutes before the phone rang. She picked it up at once. 'Captain Smith,

I'

'Hello, Maddy? Have you missed me?'

She had been expecting to hear from the captain and this was not his voice. She knew she recognised it but who could ? And then she realised and stiffened with horror. It was a voice she had never wanted to hear again.

It was Brian Temple, her ex-fiance.. .the cause of so much pain. It was the man who was responsible for her giving up the A and E work she had enjoyed so much. The man who had ruined her life. The man responsible for her taking on this jobjust to get away from him.

'Are you there, Maddy? I know it's you.' There was that faint alteration in tone. Brian always needed attention at once.

'What do you want, Brian? I thought I made it quite clear I never wanted to hear from you again. You seemed to get the message, to accept it. We agreed that everything between us was over.'

As ever, he paid no attention to what he didn't want to hear. 'You know you didn't mean that. A pal of yours told me that you were docking tomorrow, so I thought I might meet you off the ship. We could get together and go and have a chat and a drink.'

'No! We've been through all that. Brian, we are over!'

His voice took on that whining, angry tone that she knew so well and hated so much. 'Maddy, I love you! We love each other, we both know that.'

'We don't love each other. I'm not seeing you, Brian. I wish you well but you're out of my life for ever.'

'You can't say that!'

She could feel genuine pain in his voice so gently she asked, 'Are you taking your medication regularly?'

'I don't need it so I stopped.'

Maddy sighed. This was likely to go on forever.

He paused a moment and his voice took on a totally different, more unpleasant tone. 'I suppose you've found somebody else. A fancy ship's officer or some rich old man. Well, I told you before, I won't have it.'

Suspicion. Was there anything more hateful than constant, unprovoked suspicion? Their entire relationship had been tormented by it. For a moment she was angry, and was tempted to lie to him, to tell him that she had indeed met a man. But she knew better. It would only cause more trouble.

She went into her cabin and took out the folder of personal papers in the bottom drawer of her desk. For some reason she had kept the last message Brian had sent her when she had set off on the cruise ship. She reread itit was half pleading, half threatening. And he reminded her of the good times they had had.

She supposed there had been some good times. Trips to the coast. A weekend in London. Meals she had cooked for him. And their plans for the futureshe wanted at least two babies. But then it had all gone bad. She had been unlucky in lovealways. Every time she had met a man something had gone wrong.

She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself. She looked out of the porthole, trying to take some comfort from the English coastline she could see slipping past. It looked beautiful in the sun but she was not glad to be back in Britain. There were going to be problems. The terror was coming back.

She could see cliffs, green moors behind them, the odd white-painted or grey stone cottage. Four years ago she had worked here as a practice nurse for a summer. She'd worked for a Dr TremayneNick Tremayne. He'd been a good doctor. They still exchanged Christmas cards but that was all. In one card he'd told her that he'd moved to a village in Cornwall called Penhally Bay. It must be around here somewhere. She hoped he was happy. Somebody ought to be.

Her phone rang again and she looked at it apprehensively. It might be Brian.. .but it was Ken Jackson. 'Could you come up to see the captain now, please,

Maddy?'

She glanced in the mirror, made sure her shoulder-length hair was tied back, her uniform neat. Captain Smith was very keen on tidiness. 'Untidy dress suggests an untidy mind which suggests untidy work,' he had told her. 'That's how I run my ship.' She liked him for it.

She took a deep breath, picked up her case notes and walked up to his cabin.

Captain Smith was a giant, white-bearded man. Maddy knew he'd had a distinguished career in the Royal Navyon the walls of his cabin there were photographs of the ships he had commanded. He smiled at her, invited her to sit down. 'You need to see me urgently, Maddy?'

This was a job she didn't want. She had never dealt with anything like this before. Most of her nursing career had been in A and E rather than dealing with infectious diseases. But, still, it was her duty to report what she sus pected.

'I think we may have an outbreak of an infectious disease,' she said. 'Exactly what I don't know, but it seems to be gastroenteritis. You might think it necessary to inform the port authorities. And they might want to quarantine the ship.'

Captain Smith kept his emotions under strict control. But Maddy could see how much this news dismayed him. Still, he wasn't going to panic. 'I see. How many cases so far?'

'Four. But this kind of thing spreads very rapidly. I suspect there'll be more as soon as I get back to the medical centre.'

'I can believe it. You know that gastroenteritis is sometimes known as the cruise ship disease?'

'I've heard it called that.'

Captain Smith thought for a moment. 'And you are the only medical staff I have.'

'Quite a few of the stewards have a little medical training. I have a list of them. They are a willing crew and they could act as orderlies. But that is all.'